“And Vache believes that the she-bear is not only his mother, but that of all the people on this earth. This is what grandpa and Kukubo said. Javria looks like nature and she is nature herself. The maker of this world, our Saviour, if he is grand and omnipotent will not allow the killing of this bear. Baido will be left disappointed. God will take the straw coloured bear with his strong, muscled right hand and turn her into the constellation. He took Dali to heaven as well.”Miho Mosulishvili book A Big She-BearSource: A Big She-Bear (2013), p. 67
“I would write, edit, rewrite and re-edit the text. However, I still felt that I was miles away from the ideal version of the story born and still alive in me. I ran towards it with all my might and when I thought I had finally captured it, it would slip away from me and disappear. It looked more like an everlasting vision of an oasis in the mind of the thirsty pilgrim wandering in the desert. Finally, I realised I would never be able to record it in a way that makes myself completely happy with it. I had felt this earlier, but did not want to acknowledge the feeling, I did not want to feel defeated. Now I know - unless the writer suffers, goes through difficulties and finally, feels beaten, like me; if he writes the way he himself wants to write, if he wins over the story, he is dead and finished, as a writer… So, in a nutshell, the writer faces the possibility to die after finishing each of his/her works. However, it is better not to use that possibility until the end…”Miho Mosulishvili book A Big She-BearSource: A Big She-Bear (2013), p. 3
“In the dreams of the villagers a huge bear, a mythical apparition from the fading past, restored like Phoenix, walked around powerfully. Standing on her hind legs, moving towards them proudly, roaring with rage, and the horrified villagers, who could not fire in their dreams and could not even find their own voices, would open their eyes, bathed in sweat and would listen, listen in terror for the nocturnal screeches of eagle-owls scratching the darkness of the Cherith gorge, like meteors, disturbing and trembling.”Miho Mosulishvili book A Big She-BearSource: A Big She-Bear (2013), p. 11
